


You Owe Me

by lastrisorto



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Oral Sex, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Sex, chrollo being chrollo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastrisorto/pseuds/lastrisorto
Summary: You fix things for a living. When a very beat-up Chrollo shows up on your doorstep, how much fixing will your life need?
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader
Comments: 41
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

You were in a bad mood. You were later getting back home than you really wanted to be. The sky had deepened the dusk into cloud-dusted starlight before you had left your salvage shop, locking up and buttoning your jacket against the chill. You’d taken a trip to the junkyard today, and dragging back your finds had taken longer than expected. Normally, it wasn’t a big deal for you to bribe those on duty to turn a blind eye as you rummaged through the piles of garbage. They thought you were a weirdo, or a hoarder. Who would want all that broken junk, anyway? But you were always good at fixing things. Too good. At a certain point, it got too difficult to explain away as anything other than supernatural, and you had to move shop locations. 

Leaving your hometown for York New was supposed to be a positive change. Your living space was bigger, and your shop was nicer. The two buildings were owned by the same person, asshole though he was, so you were able to roll the two rental expenses together every month. Sometimes, he had you fix things around the building. He knew you were handy, just not to what extent. 

The new shop was your pride and joy. Though you still knew you sold salvaged goods, you were able to pass them off as brand new. Bribe the right officials, and nobody bats an eye when your “new” goods have no paper trail, and anyone examining your books will find no pattern of orders, no vendors or real overhead beyond rent. 

So with everything set up to give you a nice new start on life and your business, why did it seem like the universe was out to get you today? None of the normal guards were on duty at the junkyard. You bribed your way in, then were hassled by the same men on your way out, having to bribe them a second time to get out. Your cart had busted a wheel on your trek back, and you pretty much had to drag the whole thing back. You were fortunate that years of hauling heavy salvage have given you a decent amount of upper body strength. Less lucky that you had to use it to drag most of the parts of a motorcycle, three busted guitars, and some very bent skiing equipment all the way back to your shop. Once there, you debated on repairing everything right then. You were really tired. Desperately in need of a shower. Very sore. It could wait until tomorrow. It’s not like you would be taking another trip to the junkyard. Everything could be fixed in one go, so your conditions wouldn’t matter. 

You trudged home, jacket pulled tight against the chill in the air as fat raindrops began to plop around you. 

“Well, isn’t this the perfect shitty topper for a perfectly shitty day…” you grumbled, trying to remember where you’d left your umbrella. Not that it would do you any good, wherever it was, but it gave you something to think about. You were good and soggy by the time you made it to your front steps, still lost in thought trying to remember if your umbrella was propped up behind the door in the tiny office of your shop, or if it was in the small laundry room of the modest townhome you rented. Either way, it was unable to do its one job, at the moment. 

So lost were you in your musings that you almost tripped over a dark, waterlogged mass sprawled over your front steps. You jolted as the toe of your shoe caught on fabric and something firmer, cold droplets shaking loose from your hair and eyelashes as you came to an abrupt halt to avoid landing face-first on top of what was beginning to look an awful lot like a body. 

You leaned down to investigate, wishing even harder for an umbrella (and cursing your landlord for never bothering to install a porch light) to clear your view of the heavy rain so you could better see what you were dealing with. York New had a sizable indigent population, but they didn’t make a habit of sleeping in the open, in the rain. There were shelters, and beyond that, encampments that were easy enough to find. A flash of lightning briefly lit the person at your feet, and you couldn’t help but gasp. A man with tousled dark hair, pale skin, and a cross-shaped forehead tattoo lay unconscious (hopefully), a trickle of blood smeared from the rain, running down from the corner of his full lips. 

You pressed your fingertips to his neck, feeling for a pulse, flinching at the coldness of his skin. It was there, but faint. You gently peeled back the heavy, wet fabric of the coat he wore, the soggy, matted white fur stained dark, streaked with blood. You could see the evidence of wounds, but in the dark, it was hard to tell the extent. There were rips in his dark clothes, more blood visible. Cuts and...burns? Was that a bullet hole? What had this guy gone through? He was an absolute wreck. It only took you a moment to make up your mind. Sure, inviting a strange man into your home was incredibly stupid, but he wasn’t exactly in any condition to cause you harm, was he? Besides, with those wounds, in the cold and rain, he definitely wasn’t going to last long. And if there was a dead body on your porch, people would talk. And the last thing you wanted was for people to talk. Plus, and this was a purely selfish reason, in that flash of lightning, the face you had seen was a handsome one. Unconscious, he looked so vulnerable. Innocent. 

You unlocked your door and ran into your home, grabbing an old comforter before returning to the man’s side. You spread it out next to him, and, as gently as you could, you rolled him onto it. You winced at the low, pained moan the man let out, his eyes fluttering open for an instant. 

“Hang in there. I just need to get you inside.” You were pretty sure he couldn’t hear you, but honestly, you were mostly just talking to feel less weird about the entire situation. 

You lifted the head end of the comforter slightly, doing your best not to jostle the man too badly as you dragged him into your home. Once inside, you scooted him into your living room, turning on the overhead light before running over and locking the door behind you. No sense in inviting whoever attacked him to come back and finish the job, and you as a bonus. 

Standing over him once again, this time in the warm light of your living room, you were again shocked by how lovely he was. But, you reasoned, you had little time to dwell on that. This man was fading, and you had decided to take it upon yourself to keep him alive. And really, you had known the second you saw his wounds exactly how you would try. It was only a matter of being honest with yourself.


	2. Chapter 2

You had always been handy, after all. Always good at fixing broken things. And what was this man, if not another broken thing? 

Your hatsu could be used once a day. That was the condition you placed upon yourself. Whether you were fixing one object or thirty, as long as you could maintain your aura to get it all done in one go, you could do it. You knelt down next to the man, again moving his coat so you could see the majority of his wounds, and began to gently trace over his chest with your fingertips. You started singing quietly to yourself. You were never sure when it had stopped being a habit and became one of your conditions, but you found that you could always maintain _ten_ for much longer and with more intensity when you were singing. At some point, it became part and parcel of using your hatsu. 

You’d never “fixed” a person before. You weren’t sure what to expect. With broken tools and vehicles, you could see the repairs taking place. Well, mostly. If you weren’t sure what was wrong, sometimes you could only tell when they started to work after the fact. In this case, you could see his wounds closing, as if by invisible sutures. As you sang, the bullet popped back out of its hole, which closed behind it. The burns quickly faded, as though the damaged tissue was being erased, leaving healthy skin behind. When the man appeared to be completely healed, you kept going, tracing the edges of his torn clothes, repairing what you could. There was nothing to be done for all the blood stains, but you at least could keep his clothes from falling off. Before you stopped, you checked his pulse again. You were no expert, but it seemed much stronger. His breathing also seemed more normal, and the pallor of his features seemed more natural, less verge-of-death tinged. You let your song fade, and released your nen. The man stirred slightly, drowsily opening his eyes. 

“Wha-” you placed a finger to his lips; politeness wasn’t your top priority here. Time was of the essence, if you hoped to move him while he was still awake. 

“Can you help me get you onto the couch?” You stared into his bleary grey eyes, waiting for an answer. You didn’t really want to leave him on your floor all night. 

He nodded, barely a jerk of his head in the affirmative, and you helped him half-stumble, half-roll onto your sofa. He seemed exhausted by the effort, and when you returned from moving your bloodied comforter to the laundry, he had already passed back out. It was probably for the best; you had little desire to explain how you had healed him. You thanked whatever powers that be for the reprieve as you took off the man’s boots. No sense in adding whatever was on his boots to the mud, blood, and dirty water already soiling your couch.

You perused your mostly-empty pantry and refrigerator, eventually grabbing the most base materials for a sandwich. You would have to do some shopping, soon. After you paid rent. You grimaced at the thought of dealing with your landlord. As you chewed your dinner, you looked at the sleeping man on your couch. The crown of his head was visible, messy raven hair splayed over the arm of the sofa, and if you craned your neck, you could just make out the soft rise and fall of his chest. Well, at least you did a good deed for the day. Even if you were broke. 

A soft knock startled you, and you deposited what was left of your sandwich on the plate as you chewed the rest of your bite. You glanced at the clock, noting that it was a little late for anyone to come calling. Was it your guest’s attacker? Walking softly out of the kitchen, you paused momentarily to grab the largest knife out of your block. You padded over to the door, listening as the knob jiggled, then with a soft jingle began to turn. You adjusted the grip on your knife, prepared to defend yourself, and seized the knob, flinging open the door before the person on the other side had time to react-

And found yourself face to surprised face with none other than your sleazy landlord. Discreetly setting the knife down on a nearby table, you frowned at the man.

“What are you doing here, Jerry? It’s late.” Furthermore, why was he just coming in after the tiniest knock? 

Jerry looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the bloodstains on your shirt. At least, that’s probably what they lingered on. You decided not to think too hard on it. 

“Rent’s due.” He carded a thick hand through his light brown hair, a small smile twitching the corner of his mustache. 

“Yeah, tomorrow. And when have I ever been late on the rent?” 

“Hm. I know business has been slow lately at the shop. Thought you might need to pay part of it in...barter. This month.” His tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip, and the revulsion you felt made you regret swallowing that last bite of sandwich so quickly. You schooled your expression as best you could. Jerry owned your home, and the building where your business was. He had way too much control over your affairs for you to be as...honest as you would like to be. 

“No, Jerry. Just. No. I’m fine. In fact, here.” You walked in the direction of your bedroom, intending to go for the box where you keep your savings. Jerry grinned, starting to follow you. You had just enough time to realize the mistake, just enough time to start planning a redirect, when he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the man on your couch as if he were a monster. Well, he _was_ covered in dried blood. You supposed Jerry might be able to see some of it from where he stood. You paused as well, glancing between the two. 

“Why...why is _he_ on your couch?” Jerry had begun to back toward the door, never taking his eyes off the sleeping figure. 

At this point, you realized you might have found an easy way out of your landlord’s advances. Ignoring him a moment so you could finish your short journey to get your money, and get your story straight, you re-emerged from your bedroom with a wad of cash. Pressing it into Jerry’s palm, you smiled brightly at the man before gazing as doe-eyed as you could manage toward the man on your couch. Your voice was a murmur, ostensibly to let the sleeping man rest.

“That’s my fiance, Jerry! Surely I’ve introduced you before.” You paused with a finger on your chin as if thinking. “Well, maybe not. It was a bit of a whirlwind…”

Jerry’s face paled. If you’d known all it took to get him to quit being creepy was pretending you were taken, you would have tried this long ago.

“Chrollo Lucilfer is your...fiance?” _Is that his name? Huh._ You nodded, smiling again. “And all this time, I’ve been- thank you for the rent money. I need to get home. Good night.” With that, Jerry was out the door. You locked it behind him, fastening the deadbolt as well, before pressing your back to the door and sliding down, drawing your knees to your chest as you shook a little. You hated that Jerry was in any position of power over you, but there was little you could do. The way he looked at you made you extremely uncomfortable, and his advances had only gotten worse as time went on. Him letting himself into your home in the middle of the night was a terrifying new development. Hopefully, you roping the sleeping man on your couch into a lie had spared you any future escalations. Hopefully, you could make enough in the next few months to find a better place, both for your shop, and for you. Right. That was going to be tricky, given the downswing in business. 

You got up, putting your knife back in the block, before grabbing a sheet for your “guest” and draping it over him. At least most of the blood on his clothes was pretty dry now. Hopefully, he’d wake you up before leaving tomorrow, so you could lock up. It would only be polite. You smiled a little at your dishonesty as you climbed into bed. _Fiance. Hah._


	3. Chapter 3

You woke early, lingering images of bloody faces and beseeching grey eyes fading from your consciousness as you became more aware. Right. Your guest. Nothing disturbed your sleep, so you were mildly concerned you would find a wide-open front door waiting for you as you brushed your teeth and made your way into your living room. Your guest had shifted in his sleep, curled onto his side. There was something endearing about the man, his pale features framed by his tousled dark hair, cheeks dusted by lush dark lashes. He was pretty. You chalked it up to him being asleep the duration of your encounter. Any handsome man is charming until they open their mouth and prove otherwise. You smiled at the thought, moving into the kitchen to figure out breakfast. 

Your larder was every bit as empty as it was last night, but you had some bread and some eggs. Tomato and avocado. You could make something that looked pretty and tasted good, if nothing else. After a moment’s thought, you prepared enough portions for two. You hummed softly as you fried the eggs, patiently ignoring the stirring you could hear from the living room, the slow movements visible from the corner of your eye. 

As you finished plating your simple breakfast, you stopped humming, finally allowing yourself to turn, plates in hand, to face your guest. Seeing him vertical was a change. He wasn’t overly tall or broad, but he stood straight and had a commanding presence. He had apparently shrugged out of his coat, leaving him in his black pants and a high-necked, sleeveless top that revealed pale, toned arms. He had tried to comb his hair back with his fingers, but whatever gel he used to style it had mostly washed out in the previous night’s rain, leaving a mess of fly-aways. It lent a certain vulnerability to his look. As you regarded him, you were aware that he was similarly sizing you up. You hadn’t thought much of the long t-shirt and underwear you normally slept in when you got up and came into the room, but now were beginning to feel more exposed than you would like to be. Still, his gaze didn’t make you feel nearly as uncomfortable as Jerry’s. This man seemed more curious than threatening. You turned to set the plates on your small table, and he cleared his throat.

“You, ah. You used your nen to save me. Thank you.” You were glad you were facing partially away from him. It was easier to hide your surprise. _So, did that make him a nen user, too? That would explain the...diversity of injuries he had, if he was fighting another nen user…_ When you turned back to him, he was rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly. You indicated the chair across from you, and he moved to sit. You got some water and another glass. What was good for blood loss again? Orange juice? You had some, if you remembered correctly…

He smiled wryly at your choice of beverage for him. He had waited for you to begin eating. You reasoned it was probably looking for clues as to potential poisoning. You cut off a piece of tomato, spearing it and some avocado with your fork before dipping it in the egg yolk and scraping it onto the corner of your toast. You took a thoughtful bite, swallowing as the man across from you mimicked your actions.

“So. Your name is Chrollo?” It was his turn to look mildly surprised. He nodded as he began preparing another bite. 

“What, did you go through my wallet? I suppose you would’ve been within your rights to do so. I do owe you, for saving me. I’ve been trying to figure out why.” He ran his hand through his hair before leaning on it, propped up on an elbow as he regarded you. His loaded fork was forgotten. “But I can’t think of any reason.” 

You shrugged. This line of questioning was making you a little uncomfortable. Your only real reason for helping him was “he’s cute” and “it would be a shame to draw attention to your front step” but you had the feeling Chrollo wouldn’t settle for that. He had an intensity about him. If you had to guess, he was probably one of those “everything happens for a reason” type of people. You tried to think of a deeper answer, while preparing another bite. You were saved by a knock at the door.

Getting up, you once again opened the door to find your landlord standing on the other side. You quirked an eyebrow, not moving from the doorway.

“What’s up, Jerry?” Jerry craned his neck to look over your shoulder, lip curling as he saw Chrollo finishing up his breakfast. Uh-oh.

“I realized after I left last night, I never gave you a receipt.” Never taking his eyes off Chrollo, Jerry passed you a handwritten pink invoice, which you pocketed after a quick scan. Finally looking you up and down in your shirt and underwear, he continued with a mean smirk, “Also, I couldn’t help but think how rude it was, not only that you never bothered to introduce me to your _fiance_ , but also that you didn’t bother to invite me to the wedding. Surely you don’t know so many people in town already, that it’s an overcrowded affair, huh?”

You felt a heat creep into your cheeks, and hoped it wasn’t noticeable. Actually, forget your embarrassment. You hoped Chrollo couldn’t hear what was being said, in spite of the size of your small home. 

“N-no. We just were going to elope. No guests. Just us.” You jumped a little as you felt an arm slide around your waist. You hadn’t heard or felt Chrollo move, and now he was standing by your side. You glanced up to see him...not exactly staring Jerry down. His expression was far too mild for that. But, from the tension in his grip on your waist and the faint amount of bloodlust you could feel rising palpably from his otherwise still form, the threat was there. 

“Don’t be rude, dear.” You felt soft lips on your temple. “Of course we’re having a few guests. And of course you can come...Jerry, was it? We’ll add you to the seating chart. Do you prefer beef or fish?” Chrollo’s tone was mild, and Jerry took a step back, out of your (and now Chrollo’s) space. 

“Beef. Thanks for the invite.” Jerry nodded tersely, turning on his heel and leaving you to wonder if it was the idea that you were taken, or Chrollo himself that seemed to intimidate Jerry so. 

After you shut the door, you turned to Chrollo, moving slowly out of his grasp as he let his arm fall to his side. Chrollo smirked at you.

“So, that’s how you knew my name. My friends and I have dealt with him a few times. And if he came by last night…” he looked at you thoughtfully, “You must have told him we’re together, to get him off your back?” Stunned by his deductive reasoning, you could only nod mutely.

“That’s fair. I did owe you, after all. Forgive me for leaving you at the altar, though. I have places I need to be.” With a roguish grin, Chrollo made his way over to the couch, picking up his coat just as one of the pockets started buzzing. 

Chrollo frowned, fishing his phone out of the pocket. As you went back to the table, clearing the plates in an effort to give the man some privacy, you couldn’t help but overhear the disappointed tone in his voice. 

“...I see. Thanks Shal. Let me know when things change.” Chrollo slid his phone back into his pocket with a sigh, turning his gaze back to you. Thoughtfully. Considering. 

“I have a proposition for you.” You raised an eyebrow, silently bidding him to continue. 

“It seems I made a little more trouble last night than anticipated, and more people are looking for me than I can easily avoid if I try to leave town. It would behoove me to stay put. If you’re interested in keeping up the charade for your overly amorous landlord, I will happily stay here and play along. If you don’t feel like putting me up for any longer, I understand.” The corner of his lips quirked into a small smile. “In my opinion, supporting your lie to Jerry wasn’t substantial enough to free me from your debt, and I’m not thrilled to place myself further into it by imposing. There are other places I can go. It’s entirely up to you.”

You thought a minute. You didn’t know this man, really. You’d found him, literally, on your doorstep covered in his own blood. From the sound of things, he’s involved in at least some shady dealings. No matter how innocent he looked while he slept. Plus, as a fellow nen user, there was an extra layer of danger added. You didn’t even know what his ability was. But so far, he had only been grateful to you for saving him. And, he had stepped in to back you up in front of Jerry, in spite of not having the full story. So, he didn’t seem like an immediate threat. And he was really, really cute. 

“Sure. I guess. Um. I don’t have a spare key or anything, so do you mind waiting here while I run to the store? I need groceries. Especially if you’re staying here for a bit.”

Nodding, Chrollo reached into his pocket, pulling out a wallet. He withdrew several Jenny, handing them to you. 

“For my share. Could you pick up some pudding cups?” That was both unexpected, and kind of adorable. You grinned, nodding, before running off to put on some pants.


	4. Chapter 4

When you set the grocery bags on the counter, you didn’t expect Chrollo to help put things away. He did, anyway. In fact, you noticed that the sink was cleared; all the dishes you used for breakfast had been washed and put away. Maybe having a houseguest wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

Putting the last of the groceries away, you backed up without looking, bumping into Chrollo. Cool hands steadied you before you had a chance to lose your balance, and were gone as quickly as they had gripped you. You smiled, muttering a thanks.

“I have to go by my shop today. I’ve got to make some sales this week, or it’s going to be hard to eat next week. Do you want to come with me, or wait here?”

Chrollo smiled slightly.

“I won’t distract you if I come along?”

You frowned. That was a weird question. 

“No, I’ll be fine. And you can always walk around the neighborhood if you want. I know you’re laying low and all, but everybody keeps their mouth shut around here, so you should be fine.”

Chrollo chuckled, following you out the door. 

The walk to your shop was uneventful. You and Chrollo moved in companionable silence, occasionally commenting on the weather (which had thankfully cleared up), or making other small talk. When you arrived, you unlocked the door, flipping your sign to “open” and immediately heading for your small backroom. 

The room consisted of your work table and tool storage, and was otherwise full of projects. Half of your table had been converted into a desk of sorts, so you could keep track of client information, money in and out, and other essential bookkeeping things. Keeping track of who was paying for what also helped you decide what to scavenge on your junkyard trips. You booted up your computer, starting to pull some of the things you brought in yesterday onto the table. 

You had to think about how best to stage things before you started fixing them. There were some things that, for whatever reason, it ended up being easier to just fix them by hand than to use your nen on them. Other things would just...go weird when hit with your hatsu. It was always an adventure to see what was what, but over the years, you could kind of predict the objects that were more likely to give you trouble. In this case, you were pretty sure the guitars would be the easiest. Musical instruments always felt like they wanted you to fix them. It might have had something to do with the singing element to your hatsu, but regardless, you could repair them every time. The ski equipment was feeling wonky to you. You were pretty sure that was where the problem would lie this time. The motorcycle could go either way. You didn’t know the ins and outs of this particular model, and you were only _mostly_ sure you had all the parts you needed to make it work. Still, you’d had a project actually grow parts for you in the past, so even if it wasn’t 100% complete, you were pretty sure you could get it working. The real question was whether you would sell it when it was finished. You didn’t have a mode of transportation, and motorcycles were cheap to maintain, and very agile on the city streets. You’d have to think about it. 

After staging the guitars, motorcycle, and finally the ski equipment, with a few odds and ends you had acquired throughout the week thrown in (including your busted wagon wheel), you were ready to begin. You had been so focused on the task at hand, you didn’t notice Chrollo following you into the office, sitting on a stool to the side and watching you go about your work. When you glanced at him, his intense gaze drifted from the ski pole you set down, up to your face. 

“What exactly is it you do back here?” His curiosity was earnest, and you realized how strange it must look to see you at work. When was the last time anyone had seen you use your nen?

“Easiest way to put it is that my hatsu fixes things.” You thought for a moment. “I kind of stretched the meaning of ‘things’ for your sake.” You smiled sheepishly, and Chrollo gave you a small smile in return. 

“I take in beat-up junk, fix it, and sell it. This is my salvage shop. Don’t tell anyone the stuff I sell used to be trash,” you joked.

His smile faltered a moment. 

“Beat-up junk, huh?” Your eyes went wide as you realized the sad thoughtfulness in his tone, echoing the implication of your own words.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, this stuff, yeah. I didn’t know I could help people, too. Never really saw a need to try. You’re definitely not junk.” You frantically waved your hands in front of you in punctuation, and Chrollo couldn’t seem to help but laugh at your struggle to not offend him. He had a nice laugh. Carefree. Musical, almost. Lovely, like the rest of him.

“I’ve never had someone who didn’t really know me, trying so hard to keep from bruising my ego.” His laugh had faded into a small smile as he leaned his head on his fist, elbow propped on the far end of your work table. He watched you through lowered lashes as you flashed him a quick smile and turned back to your work. You didn’t really know what to make of his statement. Either people were rude to him all the time and never apologized, or there was some reason people who knew him scrambled to apologize to him. Either way, he wouldn’t likely be sticking around long enough for you to puzzle out his meaning. 

Best to just get to work. 

You spread your hands over the first guitar, summoning your nen and starting to hum. As you ran your hands over the instrument, you could feel your hatsu beginning to work. You started singing the words to the tune you were humming, a popular song from your childhood. It was something you heard on your neighbor’s radio in the early mornings, while you prepared for your day. Something you would catch a friend whistling, or a snippet from a car window as they drove by. You hadn’t heard it in years, but it was ingrained into your memories of where you were from, who you were. In spite of its sadder themes, it was one of your favorite songs to use while working, because you didn’t have to focus to recall the lyrics. They flowed from you like blood, because they were every bit as much a part of you. 

The guitars were easy to mend, as you had predicted. As you moved onto the second verse, you smoothed over the odds and ends you had placed on the table with your larger finds, quickly filling cracks and popping out dents. You turned to the motorcycle, smoothing your hands along the parts you had salvaged to replace what was missing. Everything fit smoothly into place as you sang, the bend in the handlebar straightening as the drive chain reconnected itself. The fork realigned with an audible pop, and you were fairly sure you saw the disk brake manifest entirely, as there wasn’t one there before. Finally satisfied, you eyed the ski equipment. Tracing a finger along one ski, you were pleasantly surprised when the damage, dividing the upper and lower layers of the ski like a zipper, reversed itself. You did the same for the other one before moving onto the poles. The bends in the poles and the cracking in the handles began to repair, then stopped. You frowned, repeating your chorus though your song should be over. You could feel yourself beginning to tire. You’d only been maintaining your hatsu for about seven minutes, but it took a lot out of you. You trailed off at the end of the chorus, sighing as you shook your head. It looked like you would have to fix the ski poles manually. Sometimes, you hated when your hunches were right.

You glanced over to Chrollo, about to explain why you would be taking a little longer to fix the ski poles, and to see if he wanted to run and grab some food, but stopped before uttering a word. Chrollo sat, a book you hadn’t seen him bring in resting forgotten in his lap, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes misty with unshed tears as he stared at you.

“...What?” You were a little uncomfortable at the show of emotion, and even more uncomfortable having no clue what brought it on. Chrollo regained his composure after a moment, pressing the back of his free hand to his eyes, blotting the liquid there.

“I’m sorry. You just have a lovely voice. I was taken by surprise.” You thanked him quietly, going to your tool shelf and selecting what you would need to fix the ski poles. You gave him a moment to collect himself.

“Are...are you hungry? Do you want to run and get us lunch?” Chrollo nodded, standing and stretching, revealing a quick peek of pale, smooth stomach before relaxing his posture. You managed to look like you weren’t staring, at least. You gave him directions to a food truck you ordered from often, and sent him on his way. When he returned, you divvied up the food and beverages. 

“How much do I owe you?” You started rummaging in your purse for your wallet.

“ _I_ still owe _you_ , remember?” You rolled your eyes but let it go. If Chrollo wanted to buy you lunch, he could. The two of you chewed in relative silence. For your part, you were too tired from the expenditure of nen to focus on more than the meal in front of you. Chrollo seemed content to be alone with his own thoughts. After you finished eating, you went back to working on getting the ski poles straightened out. You had fixed one, and were beginning to fill the cracks in the handle on the second (it mostly seemed like dry rot, but you could work with that) when the string of bells on your shop door alerted you to someone coming in. 

You walked back into the main area of your store, surprising the couple who had just walked in. After greeting them, you offered to help them find whatever they needed. When they said they just wanted to look, your hopes of a sale all but crashed. Still, you made sure to set out some of the nicer jewelry you had salvaged on the counter, pretending to clean it within their line of sight. The woman let out a joyful squeak when you started polishing a diamond ring, and you began to meet her eye to offer a fitting when you realized they weren’t even looking at you any more. Her noise of surprise was in response to a table you had repaired. It had just needed a good sanding and a new coat of paint when you found it. You hadn’t even used your nen. The couple bought the table, a nice sale for the day, and you smiled as you helped them load it into their car. You made a mental note to look for more furniture next time you went to the junkyard.

When you made your way back inside, you were only a little surprised to see Chrollo leaning on the counter, a smirk gracing his features. 

“You know, that was a little jaded, the way you read them…” 

Your brow furrowed. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You assumed that the woman would go for the engagement ring, and pressure the guy to buy it. They were both wearing wedding rings. Newlyweds, looking to furnish their new home.”

You snorted, a little irritated both that Chrollo had noticed you watching the customers, and that he had read them more accurately than you. 

“They seemed too happy to have been together long. My mistake.”

“If you don’t believe in love, why tell your landlord you’re engaged?” Chrollo moved around the counter, closing the space between you. You backed up a little, unsure where this line of questioning was going.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. Jerry believes I believe in love. And this will hopefully keep him from hitting on me, at least for a little while.” You were being honest. Really, you were just so tired. You didn’t much care for dating. You worked a lot just to keep a roof over your head. There simply wasn’t time for finding someone. Plus, until Chrollo landed in your life, you hadn’t even found anyone attractive in a while. 

Chrollo followed your movement, slowly advancing as you backed yourself against the other leg of the “L” formed by the counter. He raised one hand, lightly trailing the backs of his knuckles across your cheek, down your jaw to your neck. He continued, ignoring the line of goosebumps left in his wake as your brain short circuited trying to come to terms with this sudden, intimate contact. His hand slid down your arm, taking your left hand in his own as he slid something onto your ring finger. You looked down.

“I can’t just wear my own...wares. I need to sell this.” Chrollo let out a thoughtful hum before pulling out some cash and handing it to you.

“That should cover it. To sell the ruse. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was a cheap fiance.” You didn’t point out that you had found the ring in a literal pile of garbage. Instead, you slipped away from his invasion of your space, putting the cash in your safe in the back, and trying to hide the butterflies that seemed to have taken up residence in your stomach. Maybe letting him stay with you wasn’t the best idea, after all. 

You worked in the back on the other ski pole, eventually getting it into a sellable shape. Good enough. Chrollo had been occupying himself in the shop proper, and had been quiet for some time. You supposed it was as good a place as any to stop for the day. 

You idly looked around for the book Chrollo had brought with him. You’d seen it briefly after you had mended your goods, but when you looked back a few moments later, it was gone. You didn’t want him to leave it at your shop, for fear it might get damaged or lost. 

“Hey Chrollo?” You called, “Do you have your book out there?”

“Hm?” You couldn’t see through walls, obviously, but he seemed distracted.

“The book you were reading while I was working? Did you bring it out there with you?”

Chrollo appeared in the doorway, the book in question in one hand. 

“Yes, it’s here. Are you wrapping up for the day?” You nodded.

“I found this out there, by the door. Is the dent part of the charm, or something that happened while it was on your sales floor?” Chrollo held out a large umbrella stand in his other hand. It did, indeed, have a giant dent in it. You’d never be able to sell it like this. You sighed.

“Well, I guess I know what’s first on the to-do list tomorrow. Would you just set it over there?” You tiredly gestured to a space next to your work table, and Chrollo obliged. 

“You don’t want to just fix it real quick before we go? Your hatsu works pretty quickly.” You smiled a little, shaking your head.

“I can only use it once a day. That’s why I line up everything I need to fix, and do it all in one go.” You shrugged, looking away.

“Oh. That’s a shame.” When you looked back, Chrollo’s hands were once again empty.


	5. Chapter 5

The two of you picked up some takeout on the way home, Chrollo’s treat. You ate quickly, making conversation as you did. Chrollo had a wide variety of interests, and was at least passably knowledgeable about everything you brought up. It was refreshing. You found yourself enjoying his company more and more, the longer you spent around him. After he cleared the dishes from the table, grabbing a pudding cup from the refrigerator and offering you one (you declined), you looked up from the article you were reading on your phone. His eyes met yours quickly, as though he was already looking at you. Not for the first time, it sent a surge of heat through you.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” you announced unnecessarily. “Um. You’ll be okay, right?”

“I’m your houseguest, not a toddler.” Chrollo raised an eyebrow, amused. “I think I can avoid getting into trouble while you clean up.”

“Right.” You rushed into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and something to sleep in. You opted for a slightly longer pair of shorts and a t-shirt, but you didn’t have anything that covered much more than that. That could be a problem, depending on how long Chrollo ended up staying. Setting the ridiculous diamond ring on the edge of the sink, you stripped out of the clothes you’d had on all day, running the shower. After checking the temperature, you stepped under the hot spray, letting it work into your muscles and help you relax. You showered, losing track of time. Why had today felt longer than most? You certainly enjoyed Chrollo’s company, but you were starting to fear you would start flirting with him if he didn’t leave soon. Too many times throughout the day, you’d found yourself staring. It was just too tempting having him in your home. Maybe it had just been too long…

You slid a hand down your abdomen, teasing your breasts and coming to rest between your legs. You started rubbing slow circles around your clit, thinking about Chrollo. Wishing it was his hand stroking you. Picturing his full lips pressing to your own before trailing down your throat. You whimpered under the stream of water, softly moaning his name, feeling yourself start to grow close...

“Are you okay in there?” Chrollo was knocking on the bathroom door. You felt yourself pull back from the brink of release, and tilted your forehead against the tile wall in defeat. Damn. You’d been close, too.

“Yeah,” you called back. “Just a sec.”

You rinsed off the rest of the soap, toweling off as you stepped out of the shower. You wrapped the towel around yourself, opening the door just enough to stick your head out.

“Did you need something?” You were pretty sure you looked half-drowned. Chrollo smirked, his eyes trailing to the edge of your towel. 

“No, you were just taking a while. Thought I heard something.” You could feel your eyes go wide. Without another word, you retreated back into the bathroom, locking the door behind yourself as you put on your sleep clothes. 

Recovered from your shame, you exited the bathroom, shooting Chrollo a cheeky smile of your own.

“You’re certainly more needy when you’re conscious.” 

“Oh, believe me, you haven’t had the slightest exposure to my _needs_. Yet.” Once again, you were happy to be walking away from Chrollo. Your only saving grace was him not seeing the arousal and embarrassment written across your face. 

“G-good night, Chrollo.” You swallowed, moving toward your room. “There are extra sheets on top of the dryer.”

As you closed the door of your bedroom, you heard a low chuckle behind you, followed by the bathroom door closing and the shower running.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, you peeked out of your room before slipping down the hall to the bathroom. You’d already changed into your normal junkyard jeans and a ragged tank top, but you needed to brush your teeth and deal with your hair before you really wanted anyone to see you. Anyone being Chrollo. 

After your morning routine, you spied “your” engagement ring on the edge of the sink. You did have to go to the shop for a while, and it would be a useful prop if Jerry stopped by. Plus, you had some clients coming by for specific fixes. Without further thought, you put it on and went back out to the living room.

You had made bacon, French toast, and were starting the eggs when Chrollo stirred, standing and stretching before padding into the kitchen. He had slept without a shirt, and you fought to keep your eyes on the eggs, and not on his chiseled abs, or his hipbones that led the eye down...looking up wasn’t any safer. His hair was tousled from sleep, sticking up and out in every direction, making him particularly adorable. You desperately wanted to run your fingers through it. 

You tried not to stare. You cooked your eggs before asking Chrollo how he preferred his. He smirked an unreasonably sexy smirk, running his hand through his hair. It did nothing to tame it. 

“Poached, in a hollandaise sauce. But scrambled is fine.” You snorted, turning back to the eggs and cracking a few in a bowl. You whisked them with a fork after adding a little salt and pepper, pouring them into the buttered pan before turning back to Chrollo. You leaned against the counter, spatula in hand as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Expensive tastes for a guy on the lam. Before I hit the junkyard, I’ve got some clients coming by the shop today.” You hesitated. “I wouldn’t necessarily trust them to keep quiet about you. There’s a clothing store in the other direction from the shop. It’s a chain, and they tend to not notice who comes and goes. If you’re going to be here a few days, you might want to get another outfit or two.” You stared pointedly at his bloodstained pants. Not that you could tell against the black fabric, but you were fairly certain they felt gross to wear. Chrollo nodded thoughtfully, glancing back at his coat, draped over the back of a chair from that first night.

“Is there a drycleaner anywhere near here?”

…

After breakfast, you went your separate ways. Chrollo had errands, and you had work. When you got to your shop, you put up the “Open By Appointment Only” sign, and went in the back to wait. The nature of your hatsu meant all of your clients had to bring their stuff by, drop it off, let you work, then come back to retrieve it. You normally reserved one day of the week for this. Two, if you had a queue building up. For the most part, they were honest people, and it didn’t matter that you scheduled their drop offs in five minute increments. They weren’t worried about being seen.

Your clients started filing in shortly after you arrived. Within an hour, they had all dropped their things off, and went to wherever it is that clients go when they have to wait, but can’t wait right in front of you. You used to let them wait in the shop, but having so many people staring at you while you sang made you uncomfortable. Normally, anyone watching you work, listening to you, was entirely too intimate for you to be able to focus. Funny how Chrollo being around yesterday didn’t bother you at all. 

You shook your head at the thought. It was irritating how much you thought about him. How comfortable you were growing with him. How flustered he made you when he was too close.

Finally focusing on your hatsu, you began to sing. 

Fixing your clients’ stuff took another half hour. Your throat was sore by the time you thanked the last client, accepting their payment and waving to them as they left with their repaired shoes. Such a simple item to repair, regardless of how incredibly wrecked they were. The customer was incredibly happy with the work you did. Apparently the shoes were their grandmother’s, ravaged by time.

You grinned, satisfied with a job well done and a full till, and set about cleaning up. Before long, your workspace was back to normal. You glanced at the clock. You still had some time to run to the junkyard for stuff to fix and put out tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7

The junkyard was within walking distance of your shop, but not the easiest walk, and definitely involved crossing into a rougher neighborhood. You opted to rig a small wagon to the motorcycle you had salvaged yesterday, and try your luck hauling things back that way. It would save your poor back and feet, at least. 

The trip was much quicker, at least. You had to go slow, to keep the wagon from bouncing and throwing you off-kilter, but once you got the hang of it, it was easy enough. It had been a while since you’d driven a motorcycle. It felt like another life. It basically was.

By the time you got there, you knew you wouldn’t have a lot of time to browse. Parking just outside the gate, you tipped one of the regular guards on your way in, happy to see the familiar face after the stranger a few days ago. Making a beeline for the pile you didn’t get to explore already this week, you could already spy a few things worthy of attention. A fairly new model television, a really cool looking lamp, and an expensive (but mangled) piece of exercise equipment made it onto your “to-go” pile. You added a few more small things, grabbing another side table you were happy to spot at the last second, and with your arms full, you made your way back out to load up your wagon. The guard from earlier had left his post, as was your agreement, and you were able to make the few trips it took to get all of your findings out and onto your wagon. On your last trip, however, you were irritated to see a figure waiting for you at your bike.

“Hey, I’m on my way out. I already paid. What’s up?” You called out, approaching, but as the figure became more recognizable, you realized that it wasn’t the guard. Shit.

“I think you have me confused for someone else.” The man turned from your bike, and you were close enough to make out the proprietary way his hand rested on the motorcycle seat. He looked you up and down, seemingly satisfied that you wouldn’t put up a fight.

“Thanks for loading up my new bike,” he nodded to the items in your hands, “You can add those to the pile. And get out of my way.”

You stood, mouth agape. The nerve of this man, daring to rob you in broad daylight. You couldn’t believe it.

“Well, sweetheart? Are you gonna add those to the pile, or do I need to shake them out of those pretty fingers?”

You shut your mouth, eyes narrowed. In that moment, you decided. This man wasn’t going to get your stuff. You summoned your nen. Your hatsu was an enhancer ability. You shouldn’t have too much trouble just strengthening your fists and legs enough to beat this guy down, right?

As you took a menacing step toward him, and he smirked (the bastard was smirking as you were about to beat the shit out of him!), a knife suddenly appeared in his chest. Attached to the knife was Chrollo, who held his book in his other hand, an almost bored expression on his face as he dispatched your would-be mugger with a twist of his blade, taking out a piece of fabric from his coat pocket to wipe the knife on before disappearing it back into the waistband of his pants. The stranger fell. Chrollo turned, closing the distance between you until he could rub your shoulders reassuringly. With his thumb and forefinger, he gently gripped your chin, tilting your face until you met his gaze. He looked a little worried. 

“Are you alright?” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You were just a little shaken.

“Did- did you teleport? Is that your hatsu?” It would explain why Chrollo chose to fight with a knife. Teleportation isn’t an effective weapon on its own, after all. 

Chrollo gave you a tight smile, nodding slightly before looking back over to your motorcycle and the body lying next to it.

“We should get going. Keys?”

Without questioning, you gave Chrollo the keys to your bike, hopping on behind him after he swung a leg over the seat. Resting against his back, you wrapped your arms tightly around Chrollo’s waist, and you could have sworn you heard a hum of approval from the man before he started the bike, and all other noises were drowned out. 

…

Chrollo drove you back to your shop, helping you unload your wagon into your work room. He stayed with you as you locked up, and the two of you climbed back onto your motorcycle to ride back to your home. You thought nothing of letting Chrollo take control. He was so calm compared to how you currently felt. Wrapped around him from behind, you felt like nothing could reach you. With every turn, you could feel his abs flexing under your hands as he maintained balance of the bike. Having an excuse to be so close to him for so long was nearly intoxicating. 

When you got to your place, Chrollo put together some sandwiches for dinner. You knew you were too tired to cook. Chrollo’s day must have similarly worn him out. You ate, mostly silent, until your thoughts caught up to you.

“How did you know where I was?” Chrollo carefully chewed a bite of sandwich before replying.

“You said you had clients stopping by before you went to the junkyard. When you weren’t at the shop, I assumed you must be at the junkyard.”

“You killed that guy.”

“Yes.” Chrollo met your eyes. His tone was calm. “I did.”

“That doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“It doesn’t.” You were getting tired of him being cryptic.

“What exactly do you do, Chrollo? What kind of man am I harboring?”

“It’s a little late to worry about that, don’t you think? He was definitely in the middle of robbing you. He may have also harmed you if I hadn’t stepped in. I don’t regret killing him. Can you live with that?” He sounded a little tired, and a little curious. You yawned. You were too exhausted to have a moral dilemma during dinner.

“I guess.” You gave him a tired smile. “Thank you. For being there.”

Chrollo stood, taking your dishes to the sink before turning around with a small smirk.

“No problem. I do owe you, after all.”


	8. Chapter 8

You had gone to bed immediately after. You didn’t shower or brush your teeth, a decision you knew you would regret in the morning when you woke up smelling like junkyard. Regret it you did, and the first thing you did when you woke up was shove your sheets in the washer. The second thing was hop in the shower and scrub until your skin was raw, the heat from the water soothing the worst of the drowsiness and soreness from your mind and limbs. 

Your late breakfast with Chrollo was more talkative than your dinner the previous night. He asked you about your plans for the day, and you told him you would be going to the shop to fix the items you got at the junkyard yesterday. He was eager when he asked if he could accompany you to work again. You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant even though you had somewhat missed his company yesterday. You would be happy to have him there. That reminded you-

“Hey, did you find the store yesterday?” In the excitement, you hadn’t asked Chrollo about his shopping trip. He tilted his head in the direction of a shopping bag sitting on the floor. 

“You didn’t notice I wasn’t wearing the same thing as before?” You looked him over, but he was still in black pants and a black shirt. Though, now that you really looked, you could see differences in the minor details. This shirt had sleeves, a spiderweb pattern gracing the cuffs. Cute. A little odd for the season, but Chrollo struck you as a little goth in style, so that fit. 

“Where are the clothes you had on? Did you get the blood out?” Chrollo smiled wryly.

“They’re in your dryer. But yes, I got my blood out of them. I even found a drycleaner for my coat. I can pick it up today, actually.” You smiled at his good fortune. It was hard to be grumpy with Chrollo smiling.

“Good! If you’ll get your clothes out of the dryer, I’ll put my sheets in there and we can go.”

…

You and Chrollo settled comfortably into your workroom. He sat next to your work table, and you stood before it, arranging the items you needed to mend for the day. Chrollo watched with rapt attention, a soft smile on his face as he watched you work. Every once in a while, you would catch him staring at you. Your face, your figure. He seemed to be drinking you in, and he was being less than subtle about it. You felt your face heat as you turned away after catching his eyes lingering on your breasts. You would have thought you were imagining it, but a few times, he met your eyes, smiling a roguish smile. 

You tried to ignore Chrollo’s staring. It didn’t make you uncomfortable exactly, just. Bothered in a different way. You were having a hard time keeping images of him bending you over your work table from creeping in as you went about preparing what you needed to fix. It was distracting. You had been attracted to him before, but after yesterday...seeing him come to your defense like that made your want grow exponentially. 

Finally focusing, you began to sing. Instead of your usual sad, longing song this time, you opted for something a little spicier. You began singing a love song, but one of strangers meeting, fates entwining...one with a slight enemies-to-lovers vibe. It was a sexy song. It felt a little mean, given how your audience had been looking at you. But you also kind of wanted him to know that you wanted him, too. In case he was waiting for a sign from you to make his move. 

This time, you had a second song lined up in case the first one wasn’t long enough. You didn’t end up needing it. All of the things you brought back were fixed in record time. You wondered if it had anything to do with the energy you were putting into making bedroom eyes at Chrollo, just heightening the general nen output for the task at hand. If it was, you’d have to work horny more often. 

Once done, you wiped your brow and grinned, turning to Chrollo. He smiled back, eyes raking down your figure once again. He bit his lip lightly, looking up at you through lowered lashes. His voice was lower, almost an edge of rasp to it as he spoke.

“And you’re sure you can only do that once a day?” He joked, running his fingers through his loose raven hair.

You laughed softly, closing the few feet between you.

“Yes, I can only do that once a day. Why, you want an encore?” You crouched down, putting you a little lower than his eye level as you rested a hand on his leg. Chrollo took your hand in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips to press soft kisses along the back of your hand. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to another kind of show…”

You looked at the repaired items, then back at the clock. You didn’t _have_ to keep the shop open late today. Tomorrow was your normal day off, and you’d made enough this week already to justify cutting out early today. The aching need building between your thighs certainly made a compelling argument for doing something for yourself for once.

Standing, you drew Chrollo up by his hand. 

“Let’s go back home.” Leaning up, you pressed a tentative kiss to his lips. They were as soft as they looked, and they quirked against yours before kissing you back. After a moment, he broke away first, moving to the door. You gave the room a last once over, grabbing your personal belongings and checking-

“Oh, hey, Chrollo, you forgot your book.” You grabbed the book, left on your work table, your hand gently brushing some dust off of the large handprint on the cover. Chrollo had turned in the doorway, and you passed the tome to him. 

“Thanks. I’ll need that.”


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as you closed the door to your home behind you, you all but pounced on Chrollo. Leaning in for another kiss, you wound your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest to his. Chrollo’s own hands caressed down your sides, sliding around to cup your ass. You ran your tongue along his lower lip, begging him to deepen the kiss, and he obliged. His tongue slid against yours, his mouth exploring your own, as he pulled you even more firmly against himself. Pressed against Chrollo as you were, you could feel how hard he was becoming, his cock stiffening by the second, straining against the fabric of his pants. 

You moaned into his mouth, suddenly needy. You wanted to feel him moving inside you, more than words could convey. Chrollo’s lips curved into a smirk as he ground his clothed erection against you. He broke the kiss, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your throat. He nipped the soft skin, and you let out a whine at the feeling of his teeth on your neck. 

Chrollo’s hands began to wander, tugging up the bottom of your shirt to skate along the skin of your stomach, moving up to cup your breasts over your bra. His thumbs pinched and rolled your nipples through the fabric, and you wanted nothing more than to rid yourself of every layer between your skin and his. With his hands playing with your breasts and his mouth kissing and nipping his way over your neck and clavicles, you could feel the need beginning to build in your core. Chrollo tugged your shirt over your head, reaching around you to expertly unhook your bra. Letting the garments drop to the floor, he again palmed your breast with one hand, the other moving to the back of your neck as he again drew you in for a kiss. This time, you gasped against his lips as his fingers nimbly played with your nipple, massaging the soft mound before moving to the other one and repeating the action. 

“Maybe we move this to the bedroom?” His voice was breathy as he murmured his request above your lips, the tip of his nose brushing your own. 

Realizing that right inside your front door was probably not the most comfortable place to be fucked, you started to agree. But then you remembered you hadn’t gotten the laundry out of the dryer. Your bed was just a bare mattress at the moment, waiting for the clean sheets to come out of the dryer, and for you to make the bed. Shit.

“Couch. The bed’s not made.” You were a little surprised when Chrollo nodded and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his middle as he carried you the short distance to the couch. When he set you down, you quickly shimmied out of your pants and underwear, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt. It felt like it took him forever to undress, but it was probably your impatience born of desire. His pants were next, his belts unfastened and underwear shucked away with the outer garment, and when he straightened, you were finally treated to the sight of a fully nude Chrollo. 

Chrollo stroked himself, looking down at you from the end of the couch. He murmured your name, climbing onto the couch to cage you with his body as he settled between your legs. His hand went between your bodies, pressing a finger against your slick entrance. He pushed the digit in with little resistance, chuckling as he crooked it against your g-spot before giving a few experimental pumps.

“You’re already so wet. Have you been imagining this the whole time I’ve been here, sleeping on your couch?” Your eyes widened, and that seemed to be all the answer he needed. He withdrew his finger, bringing it to his mouth to taste your arousal, cleaning himself off with a sly smile. Reaching down again, Chrollo lined up the head of his cock with your slick cunt, pressing in slowly. When he bottomed out with a huff, he gave you time to adjust to the stretch. 

“Please-” you groaned against his neck, wrapping your legs around his slender waist. You appreciated him going slow, but it wasn’t at all what you needed right now.

“Please what?” Chrollo was in the middle of slowly withdrawing, and you drew a deep breath as he stopped. You didn’t really know what you were asking for.

“Please move. Faster.” 

Chrollo chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again, this time sloppily. With a snap of his hips, he was sheathed deeply inside you again. Another withdrawal, another hard snap. Each thrust of his hips made his cock hit deep inside you, brushing your cervix, grazing your g-spot. It was perfect. After a moment, he lost some of the staccato rhythm of his pounding, instead opting to set a fast and hard pace. Chrollo fucked into you with something close to abandon. You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, grinding your heels into his ass to encourage him deeper, harder. 

Chrollo’s hand slipped between you again, this time aiming for your neglected clit. He began to rub slow circles around the bundle of nerves, the contrast between the roughness of his thrusts and the excruciating slowness of his attention to your clit bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quickly. You drew Chrollo in for another kiss as you came, bucking up against his hand and his hips as he swallowed your moans of pleasure. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, giving your lips a gentle nip as you came down from your high. You tangled your fingers in the back of his hair, leaning up to suck on his neck as he chased his own release.

Chrollo’s pace grew erratic before long; between the clenching of your cunt around him and your licking, sucking exploration of his neck and collarbones, you were surprised he held on as long as he did. With a few more thrusts, he buried his cock deep within you before spilling himself against your core. 

Chrollo caught his breath quickly, pulling out of you and laying to the side with the couch back. He held you against him for a moment, rubbing small circles against the skin of your back, before you felt the need to go get cleaned up. When you left the bathroom, you grabbed a t-shirt and some shorts from your room. You looked at the bed. The couch really wasn’t big enough to sleep two people comfortably. Going to your laundry room, you pulled out the sheets. 

After making the bed, you yawned as you made your way back into the living room.

“I just made the bed, if you want to move in there. It’ll be more comfortable for both of us to-” you paused, realizing that Chrollo was already asleep. He had tugged his underwear back on, while you were getting cleaned up, then apparently dozed off. You smiled softly, draping a blanket over him. You started to walk off, but returned to place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. His lips quirked up in his sleep. So cute. You’d let him rest, then. You were smiling when you went to bed.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, you awoke in a better mood than you had in a long time. You stretched in bed, smiling at the memory of the activities of the night before, at the slight, pleasant ache between your thighs. You wondered briefly if Chrollo would be willing to indulge you again today. You were taking the day off, after all. It gave you plenty of time to spend with him. You were already used to the idea of having him around, and surprised that it sent warmth through your chest to think about it. You really hoped the sex wasn’t a one-time thing. You really enjoyed his company, and were interested in pursuing something more with him. Cautiously. If he was feeling the same way. Which you would hopefully get a chance to ask him soon.

Maybe if you made him a good breakfast first.

You didn’t bother to change into something less revealing before coming out of your bedroom. You did, however, plan to be sneaky, quietly padding through the living room to the kitchen, hoping to let Chrollo sleep in a little longer before waking up to a ready breakfast. When you turned around in the kitchen, peering into the living room to see if your plan had worked, and frowned. Chrollo wasn’t on the couch. In fact, the blanket you’d placed over him last night was neatly folded and draped over the back of the couch. His shopping bag was gone, too. 

You made a quick search of your space. Your home wasn’t large enough for you to really think you’d missed him somehow. Chrollo wasn’t here. Weird. 

There was a soft knock at the door. _Maybe he went to get coffee or something and locked himself out…_ You went to open the door. Unfortunately, it was Jerry on the other side, not Chrollo.

Jerry let out a whistle as the open door revealed your skimpy t-shirt and underwear-clad form. 

“Your fiance just lets you answer the door like that all the time, huh? Where is he anyway? I wanted to talk to him.” Jerry craned his neck to look around you, searching for Chrollo. Where’s Chrollo? That seemed to be the question of the day.

“He doesn’t _let_ me do anything, Jerry. And I don’t know where he is.” Jerry stopped looking around for Chrollo, smirking under his bristly mustache.

“Hmph. Probably took back off with his Troupe. You should’ve known better than to accept a proposal from a thief like him.”

“A what? What are you talking about, Jerry?”

“Didn’t you know?” Jerry’s smirk turned into an ugly grin. He was relishing having a bit of knowledge you didn’t. “Your dear Chrollo is the leader of the Phantom Troupe. And if you don’t know where he is, he’s probably lost interest in you. Not that you had anything worth stealing for him in the first place. Hah!” 

Jerry, turned, shaking his head.

“Well, if he comes back around, tell him the Landlords’ Association has the protection money we owe the Troupe. They just have to swing by and collect.”

He walked off, mumbling rude things about your intelligence.

Stunned, you shut the door. Walking to your kitchen, you thought frantically, piecing things together. It would explain Chrollo being in a nen fight the night you saved him. And being on the run. And why Jerry was acting so weird around him. You furrowed your brow. But it didn’t explain why he slept with you. Or why he saved you in the junkyard. _Or why you were starting to feel things for him…_

You took down a mug, putting a kettle on to boil water for tea. The ritual of making tea always calmed you when nothing else could. Wait for the water to boil. Pour it over the teabag. Steep. Stir in some honey. 

Your body was centered on completing the actions you had gone through a million times over, but your mind was so far away. Forgetting to leave enough time for the tea to cool, you lifted the mug to your lips to take a sip.

“Shit!” Your grip failed as the scalding liquid touched your lips. You let out a wordless moan as you watched the mug fall to your kitchen floor. It felt like slow motion, watching it hit the tile and shatter, tea splattering over the floor amid the shards. Moving quickly, you grabbed the roll of paper towels and started to mop up your mess. After the liquid was up, you swept the shards together, crouching over them. Well. At least you were off today. Using your nen for one small fix wasn’t a big deal if you didn’t have anything else lined up to fix. 

You reached for your hatsu, focusing on the shards of mug, gathered into a little pile on your floor. You started to sing, and for the first time, you felt nothing. Your nen didn’t respond like it should. Nothing was happening. You tried again, feeling your nen gather and focus. But again, when you reached for your hatsu, there was nothing there. Like an extension of your aura had been amputated, the ends cauterized so efficiently you would never notice until you went looking to use it.

You sat back on your butt, your crouch collapsing into something more vulnerable as you drew your knees up to your chest. Wide eyed, you stared at the shattered mug. Where had your hatsu gone? Suddenly, you thought of Chrollo. He was the only new thing in your life. What if he was connected to your hatsu disappearing? And who was he, really? Suddenly angry, you yanked off the “engagement ring” Chrollo had gifted you, tossing it behind you where it bounced off the back of the couch and onto the soft carpet with the tiniest plop.

Chrollo had said he needed to pick up his coat, and the two of you had not done that yesterday. Maybe he went by the drycleaners today? Maybe this was all a misunderstanding, and he was still there or on his way back, and he would have some answers for you. 

…

It didn’t take you long to get dressed, or to get over to the drycleaner. The sky was turning grey again, and you figured it would just be your luck if it started to rain before you found Chrollo. A rumble of distant thunder confirmed your suspicions, and you quickened your step toward the small strip center where the drycleaner was located.

The bell over the entrance jingled as you entered, its chime a far happier tune than anything going through your head. The man behind the counter looked up from the newspaper he was reading. You caught a glimpse of the headline: “Blacklist Hunter Search for Phantom Troupe Turns Cold After Heist.” Of fucking course.

“Can I help you?” The man was standing at the counter now. His hands fanned on the formica, drumming a rhythm as he waited for your response. Letting the door softly close behind you, you walked closer.

“Actually, I was looking for someone. He dropped a coat off here, day before yesterday. I was wondering if he had already picked it up?” The man sighed, pulling out a tablet. 

“What’s his name?” You paused. If Chrollo was, indeed, with the Phantom Troupe, he would probably be using a fake name, right? Was Chrollo even his real name? You had only learned it from Jerry, after all. You were rapidly beginning to realize that you had let him play house with you this whole time, even had sex with him, not knowing anything about Chrollo. You felt so stupid.

“Um. I’m not sure what it would be under. But the coat was kind of memorable. Big and black with fluffy white fur on the collar and sleeves? Had some red stains on the white?”

“Ah! No, he said not to say anything to anyone looking for him. He’s gone. You won’t find him here. Please, go now.”

You frowned, unsure what that meant. But a quick glance at the racks of clothes behind the man didn’t show you Chrollo’s coat. You were fairly sure he had picked up his coat, paying off the drycleaner to keep quiet when he left. You sighed, exiting the store after saying a quick thank you to the proprietor. You were back to square one. 

Not knowing where else to go, you went home.


	11. Chapter 11

You were amazed at just how quickly time passed. It had almost been a month since Chrollo (and your nen) had vanished. You had known him so briefly, yet he had wormed his way into your heart, and back out with your hatsu in record time. Still, in spite of what you assumed he had done, you still missed him a little. Even as you kicked yourself for falling for him so quickly and unsuspiciously, you couldn’t deny that you had, indeed, fallen for him. _Idiot._

Your daily routine had changed, but not as much as you would have thought. You still made a few trips to the junkyard a week, but were careful to bribe the guards to watch your stuff. Also, you had altered what you were there to look for. Luckily, you were handy even without your hatsu. 

The rest of your week was spent working on the things you brought back, the old fashioned way. You still managed to make most things look like new. Just, no more bringing back assorted pieces and turning them into a whole, brand new looking version of what they were. You had to complete the puzzles, then bring them back and put them together now. Plus, you had to know _how_ to put them together, unlike your motorcycle. So, that was tricky. But overall, you were adjusting. You still had the basics of nen at your disposal, just no hatsu. It sucked, but the most you could do was make the best of it. The ones truly suffering were your private clients.

After canceling all of your appointments, you had to field so many phone calls from clients trying to make a new appointment. Each one of them wanted to know what was wrong, and when you would get better. You had no answers for any of them. The next week, you took a few appointments. Some of your clients were just lazy. You could fix some of their problems, if not all of them. You felt useful, at least. Even if their wait time was a few hours instead of a few minutes. 

You walked into your shop, ready to get to work on the next round of junk from the junkyard. On your way in, you smacked your foot on something. Cursing, you looked down to see the metal umbrella stand. The one Chrollo had wanted you to fix that first night. You had completely forgotten about it.

You shook your head, picking it up to examine it. Aside from a huge dent, it seemed otherwise okay. Looked like you had a starting place for your day’s work. 

You brought the stand into your work area, selecting an appropriately sized hammer from your tools, sticking your hand inside the wide mouth of the metal tube and starting to hammer out the dent. You sang quietly to yourself as you did, a habit you weren’t sure you could ever truly let go. 

You didn’t hear the telltale noises of the shop door opening, or the footsteps that heralded the approaching figure. All you heard was the cool, even voice you both longed for and dreaded to hear, simultaneously interrupting your song and startling you into dropping your hammer into the umbrella stand.

“There’s that lovely voice. I was worried I would never hear it again.”

You turned, confirming what your mind already knew. Your heart raced as you took in Chrollo, leaning in the doorway to your workshop. He looked tired, like he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since he left. He was back in his coat, you noted. You raised an eyebrow, turning back to your work. Between clangs of your hammer, you managed to grit out what you wanted to say. Without crying, even.

“What the fuck, Chrollo?”

A light, bitter laugh was your response.

“To which part?” You turned again, briefly, incredulous. He knew what he had done, then?

“Oh, how about we start with stealing my hatsu. I’m guessing that was you. Somehow. I still don’t completely believe it. And I’m not thrilled with you for fucking me and leaving without even saying goodbye, but I’m a big girl and can deal with an unexpected one night stand.” You focused back on your hammering, the steady “clang clang clang” grounding you somewhat. “Though. I thought we had something. I know it was a ruse for Jerry’s sake, but it kind of felt like...there was potential.” You paused, taking a deep breath before continuing your hammering. “Then you stole my nen and left without a word.”

“I had some business to attend to.”

“With my nen?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Are you the leader of the Phantom Troupe?” You asked suddenly, remembering Jerry’s assertions. 

“Okay, I guess it’s not _that_ complicated after all. Yes, I am.”

Realizing you had hammered out the dent, and were beginning to hammer a bulge into the umbrella stand in its place, you stopped, setting down the metal bin. You turned to Chrollo, giving him your full attention as you gestured with the hammer. 

“So. What the fuck. You couldn’t just tell me? I let you into my home.” You could feel tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

Following the hammer with his eyes, Chrollo slowly crossed the small room to you, plucking the blunt instrument out of your hand and gently setting it on the toolbox behind him before squatting down in front of you. You let him, watching defeatedly as he moved. 

“I could have told you. Honestly, though, I didn’t want you to know. It was nice, you thinking I was a relatively normal man. You were so open with me, so trusting.” He took your now empty hand in his, gently bringing your knuckles up to his lips. He kept his eyes on your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“And look what that got me,” you murmured dryly. Chrollo stroked your hand with his long, elegant fingers. He studied your face, his brows furrowing as if he made a decision.

“I took your nen because that’s what I do. I enjoyed my time here. With you. But the coast was clear for me to leave town, and I had business to attend to elsewhere. So I took your nen. I thought...it would remind me of you. And it would be useful.” He paused, expecting you to erupt in anger, but you only waited. You had already expressed all your anger. All you had was sadness, emptiness. You didn’t expect him to wring all the emotion from you so quickly. But then, Chrollo always seemed to have unexpected effects on you. 

“The first time I tried to use your hatsu, it didn’t work. Broken things tried to go back together, but they came out wrong. Twisted. I thought maybe it was my singing,” Chrollo smiled self-deprecatingly, “but no matter what I did, it just wouldn’t work. And the more I failed at using it, the more it made me miss you. Watching you work. Hearing you sing. Seeing the things you touched be restored to their full functionality. And the more I missed you, the more twisted the things I tried to fix became. So, when our business concluded, I came back.”

Taking him to be done with his story, you took your hand from his.

“You know, none of that is an apology, right?” You smiled tiredly.

In lieu of response, Chrollo conjured his book, taking your hand again as he placed it on the handprint on the cover. You felt dizzy for a second, before feeling the comfortable weight of your hatsu within your consciousness.

Your eyes widened, looking at Chrollo as he vanished the book. He stood, walking for the door.

“I understand if you’re too angry to want anything to do with me. I understand, too, if you just don’t want to deal with being associated with a man who has a Class A bounty on his head.” He turned at the door. “But I did miss you. And in the time I was here, I had begun to feel things for you. And that’s worth something to me, because it’s rare. So. I wanted to at least return your hatsu. There’s no point in me keeping it.”

Chrollo turned back, making to leave.

“Wait.” You were weak. So weak. But damn, you’d missed him.

Getting up, you made your way to meet Chrollo at the door. He turned again as you approached, a slight smile on his face. You tilted up to kiss him, bracing yourself against his chest. Chrollo kissed you back, deepening the kiss and winding his arms around you. You matched his intensity, breaking away to murmur “Home. Now,” against his lips.


	12. Chapter 12

The motorcycle ride back to your place felt like it took forever. In reality, it was no time at all. You let Chrollo drive, again, wrapping your arms tightly around his narrow waist, snuggling against his back shamelessly now. If he had a problem with it, he gave no indication.

This time, you took Chrollo’s hand after locking the door, leading him to your bedroom. You were unreasonably nervous. The first time you’d slept with him, it had been somewhat frantic, rushed in your passion. Now, you’d had time to think. 

Chrollo seemed content to follow you quietly, kicking off his boots at the door and padding silently along behind you. When you entered your room, you paused, suddenly losing most of your nerve. Chrollo picked up the slack, slipping his arms around your waist from behind, molding his chest to your back as he kissed your neck. He trailed soft kisses from just under your ear to the skin of your shoulder, tugging up on the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. You spun in his arms to face him, kissing him ardently as he tossed your shirt into a corner. Chrollo broke the kiss, gently removing your bra and trailing his fingertips over the newly exposed flesh. 

“Your skin is so soft…” Chrollo’s voice was quiet, wondering as he skated his cool fingers down your skin, sliding around front to cup your breasts. He gently pinched your nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger, kissing you again as he slid his hands down further to help you out of the rest of your clothes. 

A moment later, you stepped out of the pile of clothes around your ankles, fully nude. Looking up at Chrollo and biting your lip, you started to undress him. You took your time, slipping him out of his coat, his shirt, his pants. Wherever you revealed skin, you traced the muscular planes of his body, pressing kisses along your path. By the time he stood before you nude, his cock was half hard and there was a slight flush to his pale skin. You palmed his shaft, giving him a few strokes, and Chrollo groaned softly, bucking into your hand. 

You pulled him over to the bed, crawling onto the soft surface and flopping onto your back. Chrollo was on you a second later, caging you in with his muscular arms as he leaned down to kiss you again. He worked his way down, kissing and nipping your clavicles, your breasts, your stomach. He stopped when he reached your slit. Chrollo looked up at you as he ran his fingers through your slick, bringing them up to gently rub your clit. You squirmed, letting out a soft moan. Dragging his fingers back down, he pressed at your opening, slowly working two fingers into your cunt. Chrollo pumped his digits into you, lowering his head to lick an experimental stripe from your opening to your clit. You bucked your hips against his face, and he let out a low chuckle, using his other hand to hold you down. 

Chrollo continued to finger you, dragging across your g-spot and curling his fingers deliciously into your core as he lapped at your clit. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, giving just the right amount of pressure to tighten the coil beginning to build in your center. You whined when he pulled away, withdrawing his fingers.

“Not yet, dear. I need to feel you clenching around me.” You nodded, spreading your legs more to accommodate him as Chrollo moved back up your body to brace himself over you on strong arms. 

Reaching down, he lined himself up with your opening, pressing the head of his cock to your entrance and pushing in. You wrapped your legs around his narrow waist to make it easier, drawing him deeper. With a masculine groan, he bottomed out inside you, leaning in for a kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, and after a moment for you to adjust to the stretch, he began to thrust within you. Chrollo set a slow, deep pace, burying his face in the crook of your neck to press soft kisses and hard nips to the sensitive skin there. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, digging your nails into the pale skin of his back. Slowly burying his cock inside you, Chrollo had to know what he was doing to be hitting your sweet spots on every thrust. You cried out as he bumped your cervix on a particularly deep thrust, and you could begin the coil in your core tightening to a breaking point.

“Chro-Chrollo, I’m gonna-”

“Then cum for me.” He murmured in your ear, snapping his hips to drive his cock into you faster. You groaned his name again as the edges of your vision blurred, softening everything in the haze of the ecstasy you were feeling. Your cunt spasmed around him, and he continued to fuck into you through your orgasm, riding the waves of your pleasure as you milked him. A few thrusts more, and he gave a soft cry of your name as he spilled himself deep inside you. 

Chrollo lay on top of you for a few minutes, peppering your lips and neck with small kisses, before he finally rolled off to your side. You turned, lacing your leg between his, and resting a hand on his thigh. Chrollo smiled tiredly at you.

“So…” You hated to ask, but you hated the idea of waking up without him there, again, even more. “What happens now?”

“Well. I can’t very well offer you the reality of what we were pretending. I’m a wanted man, after all.” Chrollo looked down at your hand on his thigh, noting the absence of the ring he’d given you, and smiled ruefully. “I’ll never be able to offer you marriage. You won’t have a quiet life. But it’ll never be boring. I can keep up the rent on this place, and you can come traveling with me. Or if you’d prefer to stay here, I can make sure Jerry never bothers you again. It’s up to you.” Taking your hand in his, Chrollo brought it to his lips. 

“It may not be a conventionally perfect relationship, what I’m offering,” Chrollo chuckled against the back of your hand, “But it’s something.”

“And it’s with you.” You snuggled closer.

“And it’s with me.”

“That’s enough to cover what you owe.” You smiled, already starting to doze as Chrollo settled the blanket around the two of you.


End file.
